


Submerged (Deep In Dark Waters)

by mouth_breather011



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angry Peter Parker, Angst, Crying, Dark Irondad, Dark Tony Stark, Drug Use, Evil Tony Stark, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Insomnia, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, No Sex, No Smut, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Possessive Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sassy Peter Parker, Scared Peter Parker, Sleepy Peter Parker, Stockholm Syndrome, Tired Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouth_breather011/pseuds/mouth_breather011
Summary: Tony begins to notice how Peter wakes up every single night from nightmares, and it's affecting the boy in a not-so-nice way. Tony decides that he can help; by giving him a homemade drug that induces sleep. The problem is, what happens if Peter finds out what he does to him every night? The information certainly can't leave the Tower, so . . . What if Peter doesn't leave?
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 70
Kudos: 384





	1. Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this. It was gonna be a oneshot, but it was taking to long so it's gonna have multiple chapters now. Yay.

It wasn’t a bad thing. Or at least, not to Tony.

But Tony was smart enough to know that what he did was, in fact, wrong. He knew it was manipulative. He knew it was cruel. He knew it was a violation of privacy.

But it was helpful.

The first night Peter had slept in the Compound, he woke up screaming. The second time, too. And the third. And the fourth, and the seventh, and the twelfth. So on and so forth.

Now see, this part wasn’t Tony’s fault. If anything, he made the situation better. Just by being there when the boy woke. By comforting, by calming, by soothing.

By drugging. 

But he came up with a solution! He fixed the problem, and that’s all that counts.

Tony’s a mechanic, an inventor. He was made to fix things.

But . . . not like this.

Yet again, Tony was awoken by the telltale scream of terror from down the hall. He didn’t mind being woken to help his—the, not his, kid, but it was becoming a little tedious. He knew that there was no one else close enough to Peter that could possibly understand what he was going through, but Tony did. So Tony helped.

The mechanic raced down the hall, trying to reach Peter before the next scream. Every one was a sign of deeper terror, another second of torture erupting from the boy’s own mind. Tony could fix it. He just needed to be faster.

He slammed the bedroom door open, not hesitating to bound across the floor and onto the bed to wrestle Peter from his blanket-prison. All the while reaching for some way to secure Peter, Tony spoke words of comfort, trying to bring him to the world of the wake. Still, he thrashed and turned, face scrunched up in phantom pain and fear, uttering strangled sounds that Tony never wanted to hear.

Finally grasping Peter’s shoulders, Tony gave the boy a couple quick shakes, launching him into the pillows strewn across the head of the bedset. Peter gasped and woke with a start.

“T-tony,” he sobbed, throwing himself into the man’s open arms. They fit into each other’s embrace perfectly, as if they were made to be like this. Tony automatically shifted one hand to Peter’s back and the other to his unruly curls. The outcome was instantaneous, and the boy practically melted in Tony’s arms.

“Shh, it’s okay, Pete. I’m here, you’re here, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Tony muttered, gaze fixed on the wall opposite of them. Peter curled further into his arms.

“I-I’m so sorry th-that I w-woke—woke you a-again,” Peter hiccupped and sobbed, crying in earnest. Tony’s heart nearly cracked in two, and he closed his eyes to stop the possibility of shedding his own tears.

“No, it’s okay, bud. I’ve had my fair share of nightmares, I know it’s difficult without someone by your side to help you through them,” he whispered, gently beginning to rock back and forth. “Do you want to talk about it?” Peter shook his head, but didn’t move from their position, instead letting himself be swayed in the man’s careful arms.

The boy didn’t usually want to talk about his nightmares, but that was fine by Tony. In all honesty, he didn’t really want to hear about what horrors made Peter scream the way he did.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, the usual in his nightly routine to comfort Peter. Most often, the boy just asked to be hugged or cuddled, or for Tony to stay the rest of the night. All of which he did not mind, but rather preferred.

Who better to keep his boy safe at night than he, himself?

“A-anything, please. P-please, just m-make them go away,” Peter pleaded, shaking violently as another onslaught of tears flooded his cheeks. “I w-wish this was a-all some sort of—sort of sickness th-that I could j-just get rid of w-with the right m-medicine.”

It was then that Peter’s drowsy, sleep-addled words sparked a thought. A thought turned into an idea turned into a plan.

Countless hours were spent, speculating and researching and testing. Tony collaborated with Bruce and Dr. Cho to find the right chemicals, and just days later, the perfect solution was complete.

Later that day, Tony invited Peter to stay the night. As expected, the boy couldn’t refuse.

The mechanic kept him entertained all evening, anticipating the moment when his solution would come into play. Eventually, he insisted on a movie marathon, preceding to make popcorn and hot chocolate to go along. Perfectly suited for the cold weather. 

Peter would never suspect being handed a laced drink from his mentor.

Tony was proud to say that the drug did its job flawlessly. It was perfectly matched for the boy’s metabolism, able to send him into a dreamless sleep for as long as necessary. Along with ensuring a good night’s rest, the drug would rejuvenate and energize Peter when he woke, quickening the rate at which he’d recover from sleep loss. No side effects were to be expected.

Within the first half hour of the movie, Peter was drifting off, and he was sound asleep ten minutes later. Tony carried him to his room, laying Peter under the covers and tucking him in. He then proceeded to sit and watch him sleep throughout the night, monitoring him for any signs of distress.

All went according to plan.

Just before the drug was supposed to wear off, Tony slipped out of Peter’s room and into the kitchen. He prepared a breakfast big enough for Peter’s inhumanly large appetite, finishing the eggs just as the kid stumbled down the hall.

Peter’s hair was sticking out at all angles, and he rubbed at his eyes with curled fists. Tony was glad to see that he looked well-rested in comparison to before the drug. 

“G’morning, Pete. How’d you sleep?”

The boy sat down at a bar stool, leaning his elbows on the island counter and smiling at Tony. “Really well, actually. I don’t think I woke up once last night.”

Tony could confirm that that was true.

The rest of the morning continued amazingly, and Tony couldn’t be happier. Peter was in a good mood all day, showing no signs of the usual exhaustion or stress.

Tony was only slightly ashamed the next time he invited Peter to stay the night. 

This time, he laced the boy’s dinner, eager to see him sleeping soon. It was obvious that Peter hadn’t slept well in the days since the first trial run. After their meal, Tony noticed Peter becoming even more fatigued, and offered to help him to bed. He couldn’t help but smile when the boy obliged.

The man hated to admit it, but he loved watching his kid sleep. He loved getting him ready for bed as he helplessly drifted off. He loved the fact that he was the one helping his Peter get the rest he needed.

Tony hated to admit that he was insane.

Even then, he continued to drug Peter for months. Tony invited him to stay the night more times than he probably should have, but Peter didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to notice that he slept better at the Compound. Nothing suspicious about that, totally not.

When summer finally rolled around, Peter revealed that his aunt would be out of town for most of the break. Tony didn’t hesitate to offer him a place to stay. He would love the chance to run more trials, maybe find a way to better improve his creation.

Sure, he was insane. Sure, he knew this was wrong. Sure, he should have told Peter.

But it helped. And Tony could never tell Peter, no, not ever. He was too ashamed.

And honestly, who just comes out and says they’ve been drugging their pseudo-son to help them sleep for months?

But who drugs their pseudo-son to help them sleep, period?

Or anyone, for that matter.

It was the first week of summer, Peter’s first full week at the Compound, when Tony started to notice something was off.

“C’mon Pete, time to wake up,” Tony called, making his way into the boy’s room. Peter was under the covers, obviously trying to fall back asleep. Tony tapped him on the shoulder teasingly. “I’m serious! Honestly, who sleeps this much during the summer?”

Peter groaned, curling up into a tighter ball. Tony sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “Don’t make me carry you,” he threatened jokingly. He actually didn’t care if he had to carry Peter. He loved his kid, he’d do anything to coddle him.

“Just let me sleep,” the boy grunted, staying put and completely ignoring Tony’s comment. “I’m still tired.”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the man said, and slipped his arms under the giant blanket-ball that was Peter. Hefting the kid closer to his chest, Tony made his way to the kitchen. The blanket stayed secure around Peter, covering every inch of him accept his face. As he walked to the elevator, Tony watched him try to sleep, admiring his cute little button nose splashed with freckles, his thin red lips, and his flawless pale skin. Though it could have been a trick of the light, Tony swore he looked a little too pale. 

No, it was just the light. There was no way the drug was doing any harm to Peter. Right?

Peter shifted in Tony’s tight embrace, curling closer to the man’s chest. He grinned giddily.

The elevator stopped, and Tony padded out into the kitchen, Peter still cozied up in his arms. The man set him on one of the bar stools, and was about to make him something to eat when Peter started listing sideways. Tony hurriedly grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back upright. The half-conscious boy only leaned back into the man’s chest, slumped in what must have been a very uncomfortable position. Tony slapped his cheek lightly.

“C’mon, bud. I know you’re tired, but you gotta try to stay awake,” he teased, but Peter barely hinted that he could hear what the man had said. “Earth to Peter? Hello!” 

Tony continued to shake the boy, but he just stared blankly at the granite countertop. 

“FRIDAY, what’s wrong with him?” Tony questioned, beginning to panic slightly, turning Peter to face him and attempting to make eye contact. Peter just stare lazily at the man, face devoid of any and all emotion.

“It seems that the drug you administered him appears to be sending Peter into a comatose state, hence the reason he is unresponsive,” the AI replied, and Tony cursed, immediately pulling Peter into his arms and running to the elevator. “An antidote is required, or Peter will enter a medically-induced coma within the next hour.” 

Tony cussed again, then shifted Peter’s weight in his arms, jamming the elevator button as many times as he could before it arrived. He bolted into the elevator and demanded that FRIDAY send them to the medbay.

In Tony’s arms, Peter stirred ever so slightly, glazed eyes trained on the ceiling. Tony hoisted him up higher, speaking gently, “I’m so sorry, Pete. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was only supposed to help you sleep, I don’t know what went wrong.” Peter’s eyebrows wrinkled slightly, and he lethargically turned his head to face Tony.

“Y-y-you . . . di-id . . . y-you,” he mumbled slowly, stuttering and struggling to form words. The boy began to squirm weakly, face portraying a growing horror. “Wh-at . . . ?” Tony shushed Peter and clutched him tighter, panic and anxiety rising. Peter was going to figure it out, he was going to know that Tony was insa—

The elevator doors opened, and Tony raced down the hall with Peter still in his grip, happy to avoid the boy’s inevitable fear, but still worried about his welfare. He slammed through the double doors of the medbay and gently but urgently lay Peter down on a gurney. He was back to his unresponsive state, but his small hands were curled in the thin sheets, knuckles white and sheets strained.

Tony grabbed the side of the gurney and pulled it into the next room over, where he could find an antidote and keep an eye on his kid simultaneously. Peter hardly flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. Tony cupped his cheek and pressed a short kiss to his forehead, then turned and jumped into a spinning chair and pulled himself to the desk.

“FRI, scan him and find out what went wrong,” Tony ordered, pulling up his documents and recordings from his previous research. 

“Boss, I’m detecting large amounts of chloromethane and benzene in Peter’s bloodstream,” FRIDAY reported. 

“I know, that’s because of the drugs,” Tony replied, and he glanced over at Peter warily. The boy was glaring at him weakly. Tony winced.

FRIDAY’s retort was exasperated. “There is too much of both in his blood. The chemicals aren’t metabolizing as fast as you anticipated, so the effect of the drug on Peter is similar to giving quadruple the normal amount to a regular human. Damage could be permanent.”

“Crap,” Tony muttered, rolling his chair to his other desktop. “Crap crap crap. FRI, analyze the drug and find an antidote.”

“Sir, that could take hours, and even if it’s done rendering within that time, it might not work.”

“Well, shoot. FRI, gimme something that can counteract the chloromethane and benzene while you figure that out. We need as much time as possible,” Tony ordered. He stood and walked to the chemical section of the lab and searched through the different flasks and containers. He pulled out a syringe and a little bottle labeled ‘ethanol’ and ran back to Peter’s gurney.

When Peter saw the syringe in his hand, he began to squirm and whimper, his face crumpling in fear. Tony tried to calm him, holding a hand to his chest gently.

“Shh, it’s okay. This is gonna help you, I promise,” the man whispered, waiting until Peter was too physically exhausted to keep moving. He stuck the needle into the bottle and extracted some of the liquid, and brought it to the boy’s arm. Peter whimpered, muttering unintelligible words under his breath as Tony inserted the syringe and pressed the pump. They both let out heavy sighs as soon as it was done.

“Okay, now that that’s over with,” Tony sighed, putting away the bottle and syringe. “FRIDAY, how’s the antidote looking?”

“The antidote will finish rendering within the next two hours,” the AI replied. “Peter now has approximately seventy-four minutes and twenty-three seconds before he will enter a coma.”

Tony cussed loudly, clutching his hair. He sat down in his chair heavily, trying to calm his breathing. This was all a catastrophe.

“Okay, um, I can work with that. Uh, FRI, try and get that down in the next hour, please. I’ll, um, I’ll go get some zinc chloride to, uh, to help neutralize the chloromethane,” Tony stuttered, stumbling to his feet. He grabbed the supplies again and gave Peter another injection. The kid was now more docile, obviously entering a state of shock. Tony decided to let FRIDAY do the rest of the work, opting to take a seat by Peter and hold his hand.

He couldn’t help but think that this was a horrible mistake.

* * * * *

Peter wanted so badly to scream. 

He was still trapped in that uncomfortable gurney with Tony’s sweaty palm latched to his, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was already too weak to even lift his head, much less run from the man that had caused all this.

Peter was hurt that Mr. Stark would do something like this. Especially to him.

This really sucked. Peter felt so completely and utterly helpless, not to mention how sick he was feeling. It was just like the spider bite all over again. 

Peter whined quietly, shifting ever-so-slightly away from Mr. Stark. The man must have interpreted it the wrong way, for he immediately brought his other hand up to the boy’s hair, combing it the way he did to calm him down. Peter hated how well it worked. He instantly melted, involuntarily letting out a contempt sigh. His mind screamed in frustration.

“I know bud, I’m so sorry that this happened to you,” Mr. Stark whispered, squeezing Peter’s hand with the one that was still clasped in it tightly. “This will all be over soon, and then we can rest on the couch and watch a movie together or something. Whatever you want.” The man pressed a chaste kiss into his sweaty forehead, making Peter cringe internally.

“Boss, the antidote is complete. Would you like to begin the first trial?” FRI stated abruptly. Mr. Stark leapt to his feet immediately.

“Yes! Yes, do it now!” he shouted, rushing to grab an IV. Without much warning, he placed the needle in the crook of Peter’s left elbow, muttering a soft reassurance to the boy’s groan. Multiple wires and needles later, Peter could already feel FRIDAY pumping the antidote into his veins, sweet relief flooding his overheating body. His muscles released all the tension, and he deflated.

Soon, he could feel the pull of sleep and see the tendrils of darkness in the corners of his eyes. Tony was back at his side again, but Peter didn’t care. He needed to sleep.

The hand in his hair felt really good. He wished it didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk what you think.


	2. Off Colored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is chapter 2! I know what you're thinking; what, already?! Yep, it's here! Just a warning, it's kinda fast and dialogue heavy, so yeah. It takes a bit of a turn from here, because I decided to mesh it with an idea that I'd had for another fic. Hope you guys like it, enjoy!

Tony had fallen asleep while watching Peter sleep. That was a mistake.

He’d been startled awake by the sound of a loud thump from outside the hospital room and down the hall. After seeing Peter’s bed empty, Tony bolted from his chair in the corner and ran out into the hall.

Sure enough, there was the kid at the end of the corridor, sprawled on the ground near the turn. Peter lifted his head and saw Tony, and immediately scrambled to get up. The billionaire swallowed his shock and followed him.

It wasn’t hard to catch up to Peter, seeing as the drugs were still technically in his system. He stumbled blearily to the elevator, jamming his thumb into the button. Tony was quickly gaining on him. Peter pressed himself against the elevator doors, staring at the man in pure terror. Tony never thought he’d see that look aimed at him.

The elevator dinged just as Tony reached the boy, who had slid to the floor in an attempt to make himself smaller. He screamed as the man grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the doors.

“No, no, no!” Peter screamed, just barely off the ground as he tried to wrench his arms from Tony’s strong grip. “Let me go, please, let me go!”

“Kid, calm down, stop—stop struggling!” Tony yelled. Peter shook his head, and the billionaire jerked him to his feet so hard that his head nearly snapped back. Tony was quick to bend down, tilting the boy over his shoulder and standing up hastily. Peter let out a strangled yelp.

“No! Put me down, you—you’re sick! You’re crazy, please, let me go!” the boy continued to yell, pounding his little fists into Tony’s back. He paid no mind to the insults, holding his legs and carrying him back to the medbay. Peter screamed and cried the whole way.

When they got there, Tony tugged the boy back over his shoulder and dropped him in a wheelchair, restraining his wrists and ankles with metal cuffs that he’d previously installed in case something like this happened. Peter jerked in the chair once, but he was too winded and exhausted to attempt anything else.

They both sat there, breathing hard and glaring at each other. Peter sniffed, his face red and puffy with tear streaks. Tony sighed deeply.

“Rule number one while you’re under my care; you listen to everything I tell you to do. No more running from me,” Tony ordered, leaning forward dangerously. Peter leaned forward as well, trying to glare but looking more like a kicked puppy than anything.

“Who said I was under your care?” Peter asked angrily, sniffing again.

“You’re aunt. When she said you could stay here over the summer,” Tony replied smugly. 

“Well yeah, that’s because she doesn’t know that you’ve been drugging me,” Peter yelled, pulling at the cuffs again. “I’m sure she’d be fine if I stayed home instead after hearing about this.”

“Okay, first off; you are home. And second; May isn’t going to know anything. You won’t ever have the chance,” the billionaire replied darkly. If May knew what he did, surely she’d fight to take Peter away from him. That was not allowed.

“No, I’m sorry, this is not my home and you know it.”

Tony crossed his arms. “Well it’s gonna be. At least for a while.”

“B-but you can’t do that!” Peter stammered, struggling in the chair. Tony pulled it closer when it started to move away. “I’m a minor, you can’t just kidnap me!”

“I’m not kidnapping you, I’m one of your guardians. And I’m just trying to help you,” Tony tried to reason calmly, but Peter wasn’t having any of it.

“Help me?! Oh sure, by drugging, chasing down, and cuffing me to a chair you’re helping me! I’m sorry that I didn’t understand your logic earlier!”

Tony winced. Looking at it all, it did sound kind of bad. And he should probably get Peter out of the wheelchair soon. But how to do it without risking the kid running away? Maybe there was something in the lab.

While Peter continued his rant, Tony walked behind him and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair, pushing him back to the elevator.

“What—where are you taking me?” Peter asked nervously, his gusto suddenly gone. “You’re not gonna . . . drug me again, right?”

“Mm. No, that was to help you sleep. And I don’t think I’d use that one again without resynthesizing it first,” Tony hummed, pressing the elevator button. He rolled the chair into the elevator and turned it so Peter was facing the doors. They could see each other’s reflection in the steel panels.

“Why were you trying to help me sleep?” Peter asked suspiciously, eyeing Tony’s reflection.

“You were being woken up every night by nightmares,” he answered. “I could see how much it was affecting you, and I wanted to help.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled, looking down. “You could’ve just told me, y’know. We could’ve worked together on it, and then you wouldn’t have ruined our trust.”

Tony shook his head. He had considered telling the boy, but he’d already jumped into experimenting it that he knew it just wouldn’t work out. He’d hoped that he would never have to tell Peter so they could keep their relationship, but it just didn’t end up that way. Now Tony had to take extra measures just to make sure his boy didn’t leave him.

They continued their ascent to the lab in silence. Peter hadn’t made any move to escape again yet, so Tony counted that as a win. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, then Tony pushed Peter into the lab. He rolled him over by his work table and parked him close enough, but still a safe distance away.

“What are you doing now?” Peter asked shyly, curling in on himself. Tony noticed how the boy tended to do that when he was frightened.

“Nothing to be afraid of. I’m just working on getting you out of that chair,” he responded distractedly, already digging through the boxes of old creations. He knew what he was looking for.

“Y-you mean you don’t know how to g-get me out?” Peter squeaked, his hands starting to shake. Another telltale sign of terror.

“That’s not what I meant, so calm down,” Tony chuckled, pulling out what he was looking for. “Aha! Now I can free you.”

Peter gazed at the man warily as he came closer, squirming as Tony released one of the cuffs. He instantly stuck a different cuff on his wrist, and did the same with the other. Then he unlocked the ankle cuffs and helped Peter to his feet. The kid examined the new cuffs on his wrists. He looked up at Tony.

“I thought you said you were freeing me.”

“Yeah, from the chair. Look, now you can move around!” Tony exclaimed with a wide grin, holding his wrists and waving them around wildly. Peter smiled weakly, but it disappeared quicker than it came. A tear rolled down his cheek quietly as he looked down.

“Hey, don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” Tony murmured, the mood switching instantly. He cupped Peter’s face and lifted it, trying to swipe away the tears as they came in rivulets, but the boy moved his head to escape his grasp.

“Please. I’m just trying to take care of you,” Tony said quietly. Peter didn’t respond, so Tony held his face again, pleased when the kid let him. After wiping away the last of the tears, Tony pulled Peter into a hug, the kid’s arms loosely wrapping around his middle in turn.

“I’m so sorry, bud. I didn’t mean for it to turn out this way,” the billionaire apologized.

It was true. He didn’t mean for it to get to the point that he had to kidnap his own kid.

* * * * *

So, it didn’t take long for Peter to find out what the cuffs did. About two hours, to be exact.

After their little cry fest, and Peter had calmed down enough, Tony sat them down to watch a couple movies. About halfway through The Empire Strikes Back, Peter seized his moment to ask if he could go to the bathroom. Instead, he’d raced back to the elevator, but before he could even press the button, an electric shock pulsed through his body, sending him to the floor with a scream. He had spasmed on the ground for a good twenty seconds before Tony was racing around the bend and pulling the boy into his arms.

So much for a getaway plan.

And now they were back in the medbay, Tony handing him some pain meds while scolding him about running off again.

“—and don’t even think about trying to use your powers, the bracelets inhibit those too,” Tony said, and Peter’s attention snapped back to the present.

“You took away my powers?!” he yelled, outraged and angry. “I need them!”

“No, you don’t,” Tony reprimanded, slamming two pills into his hand. “You didn’t need them for thirteen years of your life, surely you can live without them now.”

“My powers were the only interesting thing about me! Now I’m just a nobody again,” Peter argued, taking the glass of water the man offered him and downing it with the pills. “And I don’t know why Tony Stark would want to kidnap a nobody.”

Tony leaned back on the table in front of where Peter was sitting, and sighed deeply. “You’re not a nobody, with or without your powers.”

“Oh, so you don’t deny that you kidnapped me?”

“Hey! I did what was necessary to keep you safe,” Tony argued, throwing his hands in the air. “I never intended to kidnap you, but then you found out about the drugs and I had no choice!”

“And it’s my fault that you had to kidnap me? Then I guess it’s also my fault that I’ve been overdosed and electrocuted in the same day!” Peter yelled, leaping out of his chair and facing Tony.

“I don’t like your tone, mister,” the man said darkly, pointing a menacing finger at Peter’s chest.

“Well what do you care? You’re not my dad,” Peter glared. It seemed that he’d struck a nerve, because Tony didn’t respond. “What? It's true, and you know it.”

“Yeah. I know I’m not your dad,” Tony replied quietly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “But I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one.”

“But I didn’t ask you to be that for me!" Peter yelled, backing up and sitting back down heavily. He crossed his arms and pouted like a child. 

“You know what, if you’re just gonna be a child about this, you can just go to your room,” Tony ground out angrily.

“Oh, and now he’s grounding me,” Peter replied sarcastically. “Apparently you don't understand what I mean when I say that you're not my dad.”

Tony leaned forward and grabbed the boy’s shoulders, pulling him to his feet and turning him to the door. Peter tried to dig his feet into the ground to stop Tony from pushing him, but was once again angered when he remembered that he wasn’t sticky anymore.

“While you’re under my roof, I have the right to treat you however I see fit,” Tony said, still leading the struggling boy into the hall. Peter turned around, knocking the man’s hands off of his shoulders, and tried to run past him. The attempt proved to be fruitless, as Tony just snagged him around the waist and hefted him off the ground like he weighed nothing.

“This isn’t fair! Put me down!” Peter screamed, kicking his legs and pushing at Tony’s arms that were looped around his stomach. The billionaire said nothing, carrying the boy to a random patch of wall. He moved Peter to one arm—making the boy even more mad, seeing as he could usually escape even Iron Man’s arms—and pressed his other hand to the wall. A keypad appeared, and he entered a short code, causing the wall to open up. 

“You have a secret cell hidden in your wall?” Peter gasped breathlessly, finally giving up trying to escape the man’s strong arms. “How did I not see that coming?”

Tony chuckled briefly, then walked through the opening and into the new room. He deposited Peter to the ground, and he quickly jumped away, arms out in a defensive stance.

“Okay, first, this is not a cell. It’s an old safe room,” Tony said a-matter-of-factly. “And second, I’ll only need to use it for you if you misbehave or if the building is attacked.”

“Wait wait wait, you’re leaving me in here?” Peter squeaked, his hands lowering slightly. “Y-you can’t do that!”

“You’ll be fine,” Tony reasoned, slowly backing out of the room. “It can also be locked from the outside, so you’ll stay in here until you can accept that I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“What?” Peter whimpered, dropping his stance entirely and walking towards Tony. “D-don’t do th-this, please. I-I’ll be good, I p-promise,” he stuttered, reaching out to grab the man, but the wall slipped back into place. His hands hit metal, and he was left with the image of Tony’s apologetic face in his mind.

Peter slid to the floor with a poorly muffled sob, and curled his legs up to his chest.

How did the man expect him to think that Tony was helping him, when all he’d done was drug, kidnap, electrocute, and lock him up? There was no way Peter was leaving that room anytime soon.

He stuck his fist in his mouth, trying to keep his cries from growing too loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me your thoughts! I love hearing feedback, even if I cant always answer your comments. I always read every single one of them, and it makes me smile 😁
> 
> Also, if you have any requests, feel free to share!


	3. Perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm sorry that this chapter came so late, I'm horrible lol. I ended up getting a lot of writers block, and I've been super busy considering I'm stuck at home bc my parents have started on the house projects, oh noooo. And to top it all off, I've fallen down a hill, been hit in the head with a pole, and somehow sprained my wrist or something, so things have been a little hectic. On the bright side, I now have a 'business' email so you guys can contact me w/ prompts, questions, or really just anything. My email in mouthbreatherbusiness@gmail.com, so I look forward to hearing from you guys!!!!! Enjoy this chapter 😁

Did Tony feel bad for locking Peter in the safe room for three days? No. Well . . . maybe. Okay yeah, he totally felt bad.

He would check in on the security cams regularly, more often than not having a live feed pulled up for long periods of time while he worked in his lab. Tony didn’t know why he did it, it only made his heart hurt to watch Peter sit for hours on end, either pacing, crying, or staring at the walls. The boy hardly ever slept, seeing as there was no furniture—Tony was going to fix that—other than the toilet and sink in the other room. And he didn’t always eat the meals Tony would have delivered to him.

There was one time where he screamed. He just stood in the middle of the room and screamed wordlessly forever and ever until Tony had to turn it off. He checked in a little while later after the screaming stopped, and the kid was just staring at the walls again.

Maybe the room wasn’t Tony’s brightest ideas. From now on, he vowed only to use it when it was completely necessary. This time was a little over dramatic and uncalled for, he had to admit, but it was all for Peter’s own good, and hopefully he’d learn his lesson and this could all be forgotten.

The fourth morning, Tony had finally decided that he was ready to release him from the ‘prison,’ and reentered the hole-in-the-wall cell. Any more time in that dreadful room would probably break his poor boy.

When the slab of wall opened up, Peter let out a startled gasp, curling up in the corner of the room. Tony approached him with caution, making sure to be slow as not to frighten him.

“Hey, buddy,” Tony whispered, hands out like he was trying to call a stray dog. “Your time is up now, I’ve come to get you.”

The boy’s face crumpled, and a sob escaped his lips. He struggled to his feet, using what little strength he had left. Tony moved forward, arms still out, and Peter fell into them immediately, mumbling apologies into the fabric of his shirt. The billionaire pulled him closer, relishing the feeling of his kid in his arms.

“Shh, it's okay, I’ve got you,” he comforted, lowering Peter to the floor so as not to waste the boy’s dwindling energy.

“I’m s-so sorry, I’m s-sorry,” Peter hiccuped, clutching the back of Tony’s shirt. “Y-you were r-right, you’re j-j-just helping m-me. Pl-please get me o-out of here.” The kid sounded so desperate, it broke his heart. Even then, he was glad Peter understood now.

“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll get you out of here,” Tony murmured, and he slipped his hands under Peter’s arms, pulling him to his unsteady feet. When the boy was struggling to stay upright, Tony just decided to carry him, and Peter gratefully held onto him like a koala.

“You hungry, kiddo?” Tony asked, already making the decision to head to the kitchen. He felt Peter nod into his shoulder. Tony would have made him eat anyhow, considering the little he ate in the past three days. He didn’t doubt that the kid was starving.

When they reached the kitchen, Tony pulled out a barstool and set Peter down gently, ruffling his hair once before heading to the pantry.

“Do pancakes sound good to you?” he called, holding up the pancake mix and looking at Peter questioningly. The boy nodded slowly, fiddling with his hands in his lap. He looked about ready to keel over, which was strangely reminiscent of that morning when he was overdosed. 

“Here, eat this while you wait,” Tony said, offering Peter a granola bar and a glass of water. Peter took it without protest, and Tony went back to his cooking. He heard Peter opening the granola bar wrapper and smiled to himself.

It wasn’t long before Tony had made a whole stack of pancakes fresh off the stovetop. Peter was still waiting patiently at the island, folding the granola bar wrapper as small as possible, unfolding it, and repeat. The boy had a strangely vacant look in his eyes, glazed over like he’d seen a war.

Tony slid the spatula under the last pancake, lifting off the griddle and plopping it onto a plate stacked ten pancakes high. He turned around with a smile, passing the plate to Peter.

“There, a perfect breakfast for a perfect kid,” Tony joked, pulling up a barstool and sitting opposite of Peter. The boy murmured something under his breath, slowly reaching for the utensils Tony had brought along with the plate. “What was that?” Tony asked.

“Perfection is an imperfect idea,” Peter mumbled a little louder. “It’s nearly impossible to achieve true perfection, and even then, who’s to judge whether it really is perfect?”

“Hm, well that’s certainly something to think about,” Tony hummed, resting his chin on his fist. “But I think you’re perfect, so what’s your opinion on my pancakes?” Peter scoffed slightly, and Tony could see the hint of a grin as he began to cut his pancakes.

“That’s cheesy, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, and he ate a bite. He swallowed thickly, then smiled up at Tony. “The pancakes are good, though.”

“Well, I’m glad you like them,” Tony smiled sincerely. Peter took another bite of pancake, and Tony stood with a groan. “I can’t just sit and watch, I need some,” he grumbled, stacking more on a plate with his back to Peter. Just then, the elevator dinged. Tony froze, dropping his plate and whipping around. Peter set down his fork and stared at the billionaire in fright, swallowing his food. Tony glared at him, a silent warning not to try anything.

Pepper Potts walked around the corner, a StarkPad tucked under her arm. She stopped when she saw Peter at the island, and Tony with a smashed plate and multiple pancakes at his feet.

“When you missed this morning’s meeting, this . . . is not the excuse I expected,” Pepper said quizzically. Tony sighed in relief, and Peter allowed himself to relax slightly. If literally anyone else had walked through that door, everything would have gone to crap. Still could, if Tony was completely honest with himself.

“Um, yeah sorry, I was making pancakes for Pete here, speaking of which,” Tony explained before bending down to pick up the forgotten pancakes and larger shards of the porcelain plate. “Yeah, just let me clean this up. Feel free to help yourself, Pep,” he called over his shoulder as he threw the contents in his hands in the trash.

Tony was glad that Pepper had shown up, out of all the people that could have walked through those elevator doors. She and the kid were acquainted enough, but not necessarily best friends, so he knew Peter was a little less likely to alert her of the situation. He just had to keep a close eye on them.

The billionaire couldn’t help but smile when he’d finished cleaning the broken plate and saw Pepper sitting next to his kid, both stuffing themselves full with pancakes. It was almost like a normal family breakfast. Tony could imagine every morning like this, absolutely perfect with his perfect little family.

Screw perfect being imperfect. Tony knew it when he saw it, and the scene in front of him was exactly that.

He got himself a new plate and sat on Peter’s other side and said, “Well, isn’t this just a perfect morning? All my favorite people in one place.”

Tony grinned.

* * * * *

Peter was glad to be free. Or at least somewhat free.

Honestly, anywhere else seemed better than that awful room as of right now. Even if Tony was technically still holding him hostage. Not technically, definitely. Peter shuddered.

But when Tony walked through the door—the one Peter had been staring at for ages—that morning, he couldn’t believe his eyes. After a lifetime of waiting, Tony was finally there to get him. And Peter, being the touch-starved person that he is, completely ignored the fact that this man had kidnapped him and threw himself into Tony’s arms, already submitting to the idea that Tony was right all along. Anything to leave that wretched room.

Peter was glad the billionaire had carried him, considering Peter didn’t even trust himself to stay upright for long. And now they were here in the kitchen, eating pancakes like nothing was wrong.

Oh, and Pepper was here, too. That was a little scary at first, but Peter knew better than to tell her his concerns. Even if they were a little more than concerning.

Tony drugged, kidnapped, and locked him in a cell, for goodness sakes. Everything about that sentence is completely wrong. And now there’s a person sitting right next to him who’s probably very capable of saving him, but there’s nothing he can do because the person on his left is a psycho and will probably kill him if he so much as glanced at Pepper weirdly. 

Or the billionaire would just kidnap Pepper too, and then lock both of them in a cell. That was not something Peter was willing to risk. He didn’t like how dark and lonely the room had been, and it stressed him out so badly that he could hardly eat the food that somehow made its way to him at every meal.

“Tony, I forgot to mention that you had a call at ten,” Pepper spoke up, scaring Peter and causing him to drop his fork on his plate. He cringed, slowly picking it back up again.

“Okay, so that’s in, what, an hour?” Tony asked, completely ignoring Peter’s clumsiness. 

“I think you mean an hour ago,” Pepper sighed exasperatedly. “And you’re going to call him back.”

“Fine,” Tony whined. “But let me finish breakfast first,” he said, bringing his fork to his lips. Pepper reached over Peter—causing him to drop his fork again—and slapped it out of the man’s hands. “Hey, I was using that!”

“You’re going to call back Renner Vischer—the CEO of Vischer Enterprises, by the way—right now. Not in ten minutes, not after breakfast, right now,” she glared. “And sorry Peter.” 

“It’s fine, Ms. Potts,” Peter mumbled.

“Just Pepper, sweetheart.”

Peter nodded and pushed his empty plate away, curling his arms around himself.

“Jeez, okay,” Tony grumbled, pulling away from the island and grabbing his phone out of his pocket. Peter watched him turn the corner and go into the hall, not missing his warning glance. Peter turned back around, staring at the table.

“Are you okay?” Pepper asked, startling the boy yet again. “Sorry.”

“U-um, I d-don’t know what y-you mean,” Peter whispered, avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look fine,” Pepper said gently, grasping Peter’s chin with a feather-light grip and bringing his gaze to hers. “You’ve hardly said anything at all, your eyes are red, and you’re trembling like a leaf.”

Peter gaped, shocked that she’d managed to pick up on all that. She kind of reminded him of MJ, they were both really observant. It hurt to think about MJ, though. Who knew when he’d see her again.

“Uh, i-it’s nothing, r-really,” he stammered, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pant legs. “I’m j-just, stressed, y’know. S-summer reading and all.” Pepper stared suspiciously, but made no other attempt to pry information from him. She released his chin and he inwardly sighed in relief.

“Okay, but if it’s really stressing you out that much, just take a break,” Pepper said. “Or you can come to me or Tony if you need help.” 

“Th-thanks, but I’m g-good,” Peter said with a slight smile. Pepper was really cool. 

Briefly, he considered telling her the truth. Actually, Pepper was probably the perfect person to tell. She was a very powerful woman, and she had a lot of influence over Tony, so if Peter could just muster up the courage, he could tell her—

“Wow, that guy was an idiot,” Tony laughed, plopping back down on the stool next to Peter again. He threw his arm around the boy’s shoulder, hugging him close almost posessively. “There’s no way I’ll ever sign a partnership agreement with him. God, he had no idea what he was talking about, and his voice was just so nasally, I had to hang up on him.”

“Oh really, he was that horrible,” Pepper chuckled.

“Yes, can you believe it?” Tony joked, jostling Peter a bit.

Pepper just laughed slightly, then stood to press a kiss to the man’s cheek. “Well, I really hate to go so soon, but someone decided to make me CEO of a billion dollar company.”

Wait, she was leaving? How was Peter supposed to tell her that Tony had kidnapped him if she wasn’t there to hear? No no no no no—

Peter stood abruptly, the stool falling with a clatter. Everyone was silent for a moment, and the boy just stared at Pepper with terror in his eyes. Tony, whose arm was still wrapped around him, squeezed Peter’s shoulder threateningly. He gulped, and sat back down with his gaze to the floor.

“Bye Ms. Potts,” he squeaked quietly, and Tony’s hand left his shoulder.

“Bye Pep,” Tony said cheerfully, and she nodded, still looking slightly perplexed. A few minutes later, he heard the chime of the elevator, and Pepper was gone.

There goes the perfect escape plan.

Suddenly, he was being whirled around. Tony gripped his shoulders and leaned forward dangerously.

“You didn’t say anything to her, right?” he asked darkly. “No subtle hints, no codes, no nothing?” Peter shook his head rapidly, trying to control his steadily inclining breaths.

“You can’t tell anyone, okay? Not a single soul, or I will stick you in the room until you’re forty,” Tony said urgently, shaking the terrified boy roughly. Peter bit back a sob. He didn’t want to go back to the room. “She wasn’t supposed to be here. From now on, nobody will be able to come to this level.”

Nobody could come? How was Peter supposed to escape if he couldn’t get someone’s help? He was powerless and under the mercy of Iron Man, there was no way he could do this alone.

Tony noticed how Peter was shaking, and pulled him into his chest with a sigh, “Don’t worry, everything will be fine. If anything, this’ll make it easier to keep the secret.” Peter nodded into his chest, sniffing loudly and wrapping his arms around the man’s torso. 

“You can do that for me, right? You can keep a secret?” Tony mumbled, sitting back and cupping the boy’s face. Peter nodded again, albeit reluctantly. “Don’t be sad,” Tony comforted quietly, wiping away a silent tear. Peter closed his eyes and leaned into the billionaire’s hands, and Tony brought his head to his chest again, beginning to sift a hand through the boy’s curls. It was comforting, to say the least.

“Shh, everything will be alright,” Tony whispered, tugging Peter into his lap and continuing to card a hand through his hair. The boy hid his face in the crook of his neck, hands clutching the back of Tony’s shirt. “I’ll take care of you.”

The more Peter heard it, the more he started to believe that was true.

He’d never had a dad for the majority of his life, then here is a man whom Peter knows wants and loves him—and, dare he say it, loves back.

Isn’t it just perfect?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like? You no like? Lmk what you think!
> 
> Dont forget, you can now contact me personally at mouthbreatherbusiness@gmail.com


	4. Quiet Before The Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this chapter was not doing me ANY favors when I tried to upload it yesterday, people kept saying it was repeating and stuff so I tried to fix it, then it dIdN't wOrK. So here we are again. Please feel free to let me know if it's still repeating, and I'll try to fix it. My software is absolutely horrible, so everything's been really wonky lately, my apologies. Anyhoo, stay healthy and enjoy!

“You have allowed this dark lord to twist your mind, until now, until now you've become the very thing you swore to destroy . . .”

Tony sighed heavily. It was getting late and he was getting a little tired of bingeing movies with Peter. Said kid stirred and muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, nuzzling his face just a little closer to Tony’s chest.

Peter had fallen asleep a couple movies ago, and Tony couldn’t bring himself to move the kid. Though, if the billionaire was honest with himself, he was kind of grateful. The boy had been mostly well behaved since the first ‘room incident’, but today had been a little difficult. Peter had absolutely refused to do anything this morning, and after finally coaxing him out of bed, Tony struggled to make him eat. In the end, Peter had blown up about Tony ‘being too controlling’, whatever that was supposed to mean.

Tony ended up having to put Peter back in the room, but couldn’t bear to leave the kid there for too long. Even though Peter had only spent about an hour locked up, he was dead silent and obedient for the rest of the day. Tony felt really bad about the necessary evil, hence the reason they’d been on the same couch for the past ten hours.

The boy shifted again, and Tony wrapped his arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. He breathed in the sweet scent of Peter’s curls, relishing the boy’s arms wrapped around his torso. If every night could be like this, then Tony would be completely content with life.

The two sat there for the duration of the movie, the older nearly nodding off like his protege. When the screen had gone dark and FRIDAY turned the lights on, Tony worked his legs out from under Peter’s and brought his feet to the floor, tugging the octopus of a boy into his arms. The billionaire got to his feet and held the sleeping kid, Peter automatically wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist.

The walk to Peter’s bedroom seemed to take way longer than it should. Peter was like a deadweight in Tony’s arms, and it didn’t help that the man was already worn out and tired from the long day.

Tony shifted Peter to one arm, using his other to quickly turn the doorknob. He paused for a moment with his foot in the door, and hefted the sleeping boy higher into his arms. The kid nuzzled his head closer to Tony’s neck, groaned slightly, then settled down again. The billionaire pushed the door open with his foot, slipping into the dark bedroom.

FRIDAY turned the lights on at a dimmed setting, and Tony could see the outline of Peter’s bed. He crept up to the edge of it, leaning over to lay down the kid. Once Peter stopped shifting, Tony tugged the covers over his slight frame and pushed his hair from his face, planting a chaste kiss on Peter’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” Tony whispered, standing back to watch Peter sleep for a moment before turning and leaving the room. The door closed behind him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Taking care of a kid could be exhausting.

Tony dragged himself down the hall lethargically, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hole up in the lab tonight. He went into his own bedroom and flopped on his bed, shoving his face into the pillows. Tony couldn’t convince himself to get up and shower or get changed, and eventually drifted off.

It literally didn’t even feel like ten seconds when Tony was suddenly awake again. He grunted and turned over quickly, scaring the hand from his shoulder. He squinted in the darkness and was able to make out Peter’s terrified face. The lights of the city shone through the window, reflecting on the poor boy’s tear-stained face.

“Mmm . . . Pete, wha’re you doin’?” Tony mumbled, sitting up and pulling the string of his bedside lamp. They both winced as warm light flooded the room, soft yet harsh to their unacclimated eyes.

“I-I, um, I w-woke up,” Peter whimpered, shielding his eyes with his hand. So it was the cursed nightmares again. Tony might have to resynthesize that sedative and work out the kinks. He definitely couldn’t have another “accidental medically induced coma” situation again. Tony has heart problems, he was surprised that the first incident didn’t send him into cardiac arrest.

“C’mere bud,” Tony said, leaning on one elbow and holding out his other arm. Peter bolted forward and pretty much jumped into the bed, cozying up into the billionaire’s arms. Tony scooched back to make more room for the boy, turning off the lamp and pulling the comforter over the kid. Peter pushed his nose into the man’s chest, curling his legs up and clutching Tony’s shirt with his fingers.

“Care to share, Underoos?” Tony murmured, slipping an arm under the boy and pulling him closer, while using his other hand to sift through his soft curls. Peter sighed deeply with content.

“I didn’ wanna go to th’ room,” Peter mumbled, stifling a yawn. Tony traced his fingers along the kid’s cheekbone, noting how his reactor cast a pale blue glow over his features. The reactor seemed to calm Peter down, acting like a nightlight. “It ma’e me claustra . . . claustro . . . mmm, I don’ like small spaces,” Peter trailed off, yawning deeply.

“You’re claustrophobic? Since when, kid?”

Peter yawned again, then said, “Since th’ Vulture dude dropped . . . um . . . he dropped th’ buildin’ on me.” 

“What?” Tony said ludicrously. “He dropped a building on you? Why didn’t your suit report that back to me?”

“‘Cause I didn’ have th’ suit,” Peter mumbled tiredly, way too casual for Tony’s liking.

“That was after I took your suit,” he said slowly. “You were crushed by a building because I took your suit.”

“Not ‘cause you took it.”

Tony groaned, “But you didn’t have a way to get help! It's my fault you have claustrophobia.” He sat up and leaned on one arm, holding his other hand to his head. The kid sat up with him, albeit lethargically.

“‘S not your fault,” Peter said a little louder, glaring at the older man. The kid didn’t understand. If Tony hadn’t taken the suit, he would’ve been able to help and Peter wouldn’t have been trapped under a freaking building, or at least would have been able to call him for help. He was such an idiot, and the poor kid didn’t even understand.

“Pete, I don’t think you know how bad that little fact you just so happened to forget is,” Tony groaned. “Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that? It’s been, what, four months? I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t think to tell me! In the future, you tell me about something like this. Actually, no, you avoid it entirely! Kid, you’re gonna give me a heart attack someday if you keep up with this secrecy thing, it’s killing me and obviously affecting you too. You have nightmares and PTSD about this crap, I need to know."

Peter wrapped his arms around himself, gaze faltering as Tony yelled. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, and Tony suddenly felt horrible for scolding the kid. It was late and they were both tired, and on top of that, Peter had come to him for comfort after having a nightmare that Tony had technically triggered because he didn’t know the kid had PTSD from being trapped in a small space.

That, and . . . Tony left the poor, traumatized kid in said small space for three days. Three. Fricking. Days. Now the incessant screaming and vacant looks made sense; Tony had pretty much left Peter in a room that triggered his PTSD, so he’d probably been suffering from constant panic attacks.

How much of a jerk could he possibly be?

“Kid, please don’t be sorry,” Tony sighed, all anger dissipating. “You’re the very last person on this earth who should be sorry.” The boy visibly relaxed, and Tony pulled him back to his chest and lay them back down. “I’m sorry for freaking out, but I hope you know that it’s just because I care about you.”

“‘S okay, Misser S’ark,” Peter mumbled, burying his face. Tony sighed again. It wasn’t okay and they both knew it, but now was not the time to be talking about it. They’d settle the conversation in the morning.

For now, Tony would just have to be content with knowing that nothing was going to harm his poor kid again. Not if he could help it. Peter was currently safe in his arms, so there wasn’t anything that could hurt him.

If absolutely anyone else knew that Tony Stark was such a big softie who craved this kind of physical affection, the news would be hearing about some unexplained murder cases. This kind of attention was only spared for people like Peter and Pepper, and the exception of some rare moments with Rhodey and Happy. In other words, only family members were granted permission to witness Tony’s fits of passion.

Tony knew for a fact that Peter thrived on physical affection, which was really just perfect for Tony. The man had grown up with hardly an ounce of love from his parents, and that really affected him. He really was just like Peter, craving hugs and cuddles every five minutes, but his harsh youth caused him to hide those wants. Tony just hoped he could satisfy the kid more than his own parents had for him.

It wasn’t hard for Tony to drift off again, what with the kid already snoring comfortably in his arms and his warm breath tickling the man’s neck. 

Tony slept to the lulling feel of Peter’s heartbeat next to his own and the knowledge that his kid was safe.

* * * * *

Something was humming. Dull and unchanging.

Peter’s eyelids were so heavy, stiff with dried tears from the night before. He groaned quietly, pushing his face further into whatever soft thing his head was on, then blinked his heavy eyes open. Something was glowing.

The glowing thing was blue and pretty. Peter held up his hand, tracing it blearily. It was parallel to his face, making it harder to look at. He closed his eyes again and blindly continued to explore with his fingers.

Suddenly, there was a huge warm hand on his head, gently pulling his bangs back from his forehead. Peter incoherently mumbled something unintelligible, then sighed contentedly. There was a deep chuckle, and then Peter’s pillow was shaking.

Now that he thought about it, his pillow was still rising and falling evenly. It was warm too, and he could feel the steady thumping of a heartbeat. And the humming was still their, resonating throughout whatever Peter was laying on.

“How’d you sleep, Pete?” his pillow asked. Oh, nevermind, it was just Tony.

Peter opened his eyes again, shifting his head so he was looking right up at Tony’s smiling face. The rest of him started to wake up, and he realized that he was laying directly on top of the man, with a pair of strong arms enveloping him. Sure, Peter was embarrassed about falling asleep on his mentor/kidnapper, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t comfortable.

He stopped fiddling with the glowing thing—which he now knew to be Tony’s arc reactor—and wrapped his arms around the billionaire, whose hand was still in his hair. Peter snuggled deeper into the embrace, a sound of pleasure floating past his lips.

“You still tired?” Tony laughed quietly, breathing deeply so that Peter was rising and falling with the man’s chest. It was soothing, and honestly made Peter feel like a young child. It was a good feeling, like he was fragile and cared for and protected.

For a second, Peter forgot that he was supposed to be answering a question. He took a moment to remember what had been asked, then nodded into Tony’s chest.

“Well, as much as I like cuddling an octopus in the morning, we do have things to get done,” Tony chuckled, scratching Peter’s scalp and eliciting a pleased hum from the boy. The thought of having to get up made Peter feel a little queasy, but Tony was already sitting up, pulling Peter up with him. The kid kept his arms wrapped around the billionaire and moaned.

“At least let me shower quickly, and then you can get up,” Tony said, pulling Peter’s fingers from his arms and settling him back down. The boy obliged, snuggling back into the pillows while Tony pulled the blankets up to his chin. The man ruffled his hair, and then he was gone. Peter heard a door close, and then the distinct sound of a shower turning on.

Despite being so tired, Peter found that he couldn’t fall back asleep. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. There was something he needed to say or do, something he needed to find out. Peter just couldn’t remember.

It was always the worst when Peter just suddenly lost his memory like that. He supposed it was a common occurrence for other people, but he tended to have a really good memory. When Peter learned something new, or he thought of something, that stuck in his brain. Things rarely ever slipped his mind, but today was one of those oddities.

Peter knew it was something important, which was also unusual because it was always the unimportant little things that he forgot. He scrunched his eyes and tried his hardest to think, but he only succeeded in hurting his head and making his spidey sense tingle.

Maybe it had something to do with last night? He vaguely remembered having a nightmare, hence the reason he was in Tony’s room—oh god, he was in Tony’s room. He never thought he’d see the day when he would sleep in Tony’s bed like a scared little kid again. Peter only ever seeked out May for comfort on scary nights—

That was it! May, he totally forgot about May! She was supposed to be back from her trip soon, right? Peter couldn’t remember an exact date, but it certainly seemed about time that she came back.

Peter whipped the blanket off and got to his feet right as the bathroom door opened again. Steam swirled around Tony as he stepped into the bedroom, already clad in an AC/DC shirt and sweatpants.

“What’s wrong, Pete?” he asked, ruffling his wet hair with one hand. Tony looked slightly suspicious, but Peter could detect a little worry in his gaze.

“J-just thinking,” he stuttered, rubbing his arm and looking down. “About what?” Tony said, heading to his dresser and opening the top drawer. He pulled out a bundled hoodie and came back to Peter.

“Um . . . I just w-wanted to know if May was back yet,” Peter mumbled. Tony nodded and hummed, then pulled the hoodie over the boy’s head, helping him stick his arms through the holes. “Thanks.”

“You looked cold,” Tony responded with a smile. “And about May, I’ll make sure Happy brings her home safely.”

That was good. Peter knew, even if it pained him to admit it, that Happy had a sweet spot for his aunt. The odds of him letting May getting hurt or worse were slim, so she would be in good hands. 

“You hungry, kid? Nevermind, you’re always hungry, let’s get you something,” Tony said, wrapping an arm over Peter’s shoulder and leading him out of the bedroom. They stopped in the kitchen for bowls of cereal, and were at the elevator within the next fifteen minutes.

Peter hadn’t been allowed near, much less, in the elevator for the past few weeks since he’d been overdosed. He wondered briefly if he was finally allowed into the lab again. Peter missed everything about lab days, from fixing the Iron Man suits to the weirdly mixed smell of chemicals and motor oil.

“Are we going to the lab?” Peter asked, giving in to his curiosity.

“Yes,” the billionaire answered, and Peter nearly shouted for joy right then and there. “You complained the last time I made you a sedative without your help, so we’re gonna do it together this time,” Tony continued, and the kid instantly deflated. They were doing this again? Just because of one stupid nightmare, Peter was again going to be forced into sleeping at night.

“Do we have to?” Peter whined, not caring how he sounded like an insufferable brat. What Tony wanted to do was seriously not okay and definitely illegal somewhere.

“Well, I could do it myself, if you’d rather,” Tony mocked, sending a glare over his shoulder and walking through the open elevator doors. Peter groaned and followed, a silent submission that he hated.

They sat down at Tony’s desk, the man pulling up a holographic screen with the components of the last failure attempt. Just by a glance, Peter could already see what had been done wrong. Tony had based the solution over multiple elements of chloroform, which had triggered something entirely wrong in his system. Multiple forms of tranquilizers had delayed the affects, but only for so long. 

Of course, Peter wouldn’t point this out to the billionaire. Maybe if he messed up too many times, Tony would just give up.

“So, I was thinking that we could use melatonin as a substitute for the benzene,” Tony said, staring long and hard at the screen. “Sure,” Peter shrugged. Melatonin would just counteract the chlorpromazine in the solution, and probably render the entire thing as useless as water.

“Sure? That’s all?” Tony asked, glancing over at Peter suspiciously. The kid just nodded and rested his chin on his hands. “Hmm, okay.”

This was going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please lmk if there was anything wrong with the chapter, my software sucks and wonky things keep happening. I'll try to fix anything you guys find.
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay healthy!


	5. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi come read this chapter bc its been a while! No, this is not just an author update :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe . . . please dont kill me.
> 
> Arlight, its been a long time. I'm very very sorry for the delay, but life became crap, then I took a break from writing and ao3 bc it was consuming my life, and just tonight I got the motivation to finish the rest of this chapter. Its crappy and unedited, but enjoy. Ta da.

Cooking had never been Tony’s specialty. Like, ever. There was never a time when he’d cooked and not messed up. Unless it was pancakes, because that was somehow the only thing Tony could successfully make.

But it was always something simple that he messed up, too. Something that was obscure and bland and should not be messed up, like instead of using tablespoons, he used teaspoons and vice versa.

There was one hysterical moment when he’d been attempting one of his mother’s Italian recipes, and Tony could not for the life of him figure out the angel hair noodles. Tony was struggling so hard that he actually managed to burn the noodles, and spent the rest of his time pulling the burnt ones out. By the time he’d finished that, there really weren’t any noodles to cook anymore, and the sauce had somehow burned as well.

But despite his horrible experiences in the kitchen, and after a positively miserable day in the lab with Peter, Tony just wanted to try again. That, and he’d heard that lots of parents bonded with their kids while cooking in the kitchen. Well, it was worth a shot.

“Do you wanna handle the dry ingredients?” Tony asked while pulling flour and sugar from the pantry. He huffed a breath as he finally gave up trying to reach the baking soda on the highest shelf.

“I don’t really care,” Peter mumbled, fiddling with the metal bands on his wrists while spinning from side to side on a kitchen stool. He’d been in a sour mood all day, especially during their time in the lab, but now he was acting straight up depressed.

Tony set the ingredients on the counter and stepped closer to the boy, pulling his hands from his wrists. “You need to stop doing that, Pete,” he said, making a mental note to clean and bandage the scratches the boy had inflicted on himself.

“I know,” Peter said quietly, breath hitching slightly. Tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes, which Tony now noticed were turning slightly red.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?” the billionaire said, cupping the boy’s face and running a gentle thumb across his cheek. Almost hesitantly, Peter leaned into the touch, breaking eye contact.

“It’s nothing,” he said brittely, biting his lip. A nervous tendency that Tony would probably need to smooth out at a later time.

“I doubt it’s nothing if it’s making you cry.” And Peter really was crying now. It seemed as though the physical affection was only making it worse, and Tony had the sudden urge to pull his hands away. He ignored that feeling when Peter dipped his head forward into Tony’s chest, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I just wanna see May,” the billionaire heard him mumble quietly, eliciting Tony to wrap his arms around the trembling boy. “I m-miss her a lot, and you w-won’t let me call her, and I don’t k-know if she’s okay or w-when she’ll be back and—” Peter broke off with a whine, shoving his face further into Tony’s shirt.

Tony wanted to feel awful; maybe he had been a little harsh about denying Peter the right to talk to his aunt, but he just couldn’t risk letting the kid tell May about what Tony did (*ahem* is doing). It was an unfathomable idea to imagine May taking the kid from him, and although he could probably beat her in a custody battle, that felt somehow wrong in his eyes. So no, Tony couldn’t really say he was feeling awful, but he imagined that he was.

“If you’re worried about her being safe, why don’t I give Happy a call and ask him to keep an eye on her for you?” Tony offered, trying to mask the guilt in his voice. He didn’t really want to do this, but it was a necessity.

“Y-you’d do that?” Peter gasped shakily, still tucked into Tony’s arms. The billionaire simply nodded. “Y-yes, please,” the boy whispered.

“I’ll be back in a minute, then,” he said, pulling out of the embrace. Peter wiped his eyes and sniffled, then offered the man a small smile. Tony tried to smile too, but it probably looked more like a grimace. If Peter noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Tony, grateful that he’d taken Peter’s enhancements from him, went out into the hall and pulled out his holo-phone, opening Happy’s contact number. Despite knowing that Peter couldn’t hear him, he made sure to lower his voice when the head of security answered.

“Hey Hap, I need a favor,” Tony said, speaking directly into the phone’s speaker. “Can you find May’s departure flight for me?”

“Uh, yeah, what for?”

“Um, reasons. I also need you to do me another favor.”

“Spit it out, then,” Happy complained. “I don’t have all day.”

“Okay, well just imagine that May’s plane crashed in the Carribean. And then make it happen for real,” Tony winced, glancing over his shoulder paranoidly.

There was silence on the other end. Then—

“No. Absolutely not.”

Tony groaned. He’d feared this response. “Please, Happy. It’s important.”

“You said this was a last resort! Ground zero, point of no return,” Happy griped, filling Tony with more guilt than he needed at the moment.

“I know, it’s just—”

“No, there’s no justifiable reason for you wanting to kill the kid’s favorite person in the world. I don’t care what stupid excuses you have lined up, you can’t ask this of me,” the head of security ground out.

Tony breathed out heavily. He always knew this would be the hardest part of the job. And the matter was only worsened by the fact that Happy himself had begun to grow feelings for May. That could be a slight wrench in the plan, but nothing that Tony wasn’t prepared for.

“Happy, please,” Tony whispered, wiping a weary hand down his face. “You agreed that you would help if the time came, and here it is. You’re one of my best friends and I’m asking you to stand by me for this.”

There was silence on the other line. Then Tony heard the man release a long, drawn out sigh.

“I can’t believe you.”

“Does this mean you’ll do it?” Tony asked.

“I’ll do my best.”

Tony relaxed instantly. He was about to say “thanks” when the phone line went silent, meaning Happy had ended the call. But Tony wasn’t too peeved; he trusted the man to do his job, despite any repercussions. The only problem now was to keep Peter occupied until the deed was done, then help him adjust to the death of his aunt and accept the family Tony was offering him.

He slipped the phone into his pocket, steeled his nerves with a shaky inhale, then strode into the kitchen with what he hoped was a believable expression of calm on his face. Peter was where Tony had left him, still swivelling back and forth on his barstool. The kid looked up hopefully as he entered, catching Tony’s smile and returning it.

“Is she alright? When’s she gonna be back?” Peter asked impatiently, hopping to the floor. The man grabbed him and wrapped him up in a tight hug, effectively muffling the kid’s incessant questions. “Didja ask Happy to bring her home? He’s gonna help her, right?”

“Slow down there, kiddo. She’s alright, and I asked Happy to keep an eye on her,” Tony replied, beginning to sway side to side. “You don’t need to worry about her anymore.”

Peter nodded into the man’s stomach, allowing himself to be lulled by the swaying. “Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he murmured.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, blocking his sight but not stopping the anxiety and guilt coursing through him. There’s nothing he can do except enjoy time with his kid, because the best he can hope for is that Peter won’t hate him for this.

It’ll be okay though. Tony will figure it out.

* * * * *

Pepper had had a long day. Who knew that a CEO needed to make so many calls and hold so many meetings in just one day? It was exhausting.

But despite the heavy, stressful workload that should’ve been occupying enough, she couldn’t keep her mind off of one thing. It had been days since she’d visited Tony’s penthouse, and yet Peter was constantly plaguing her thoughts. Pepper had no idea why, but she just felt so concerned for the poor kid. He’d made up the excuse of being stressed over summer reading, but she had a hunch that there was something else bothering him.

After that morning, Pepper felt the urge to do some digging. She scoured FRIDAY’s database for anything useful, but nothing concerning was revealed. Although she did check Peter’s school system and found that there was no requirement for summer reading due to recent adjustments by the school board.

Still feeling like there was something missing, Pepper reviewed all the security footage she could find of Peter at the Tower this summer. Oddly enough, the penthouse cameras had been disabled, specifically the ones on Tony’s personal floor, dating back to just around the time Peter had been seen arriving a few weeks ago. After that, she couldn’t find a single bit of evidence that the boy had left or stayed here since. He was nowhere to be found in any of the footage, despite the multiple times she’d found some of Tony coming and going. It was like Peter wasn’t even there.

Pepper sighed heavily. It hurt her brain to think about, but her curiosity was far too compelling. Since the day she’d done her digging, she told FRIDAY to alert her of any more Peter-sightings within the Tower. So far, there was still nothing.

She wanted to get a better look at Peter and his behaviors. That morning in the penthouse, she’d noticed his skittish and anxious tendencies, and how he stuttered and kept to himself, only looking up to glance at Tony with an almost scared look in his eyes. And what’s more, he’d been fiddling with some weird little silver bracelets that looked far too tight on his far too white skin. They looked so out of place in an almost menacing way. Pepper was thoroughly worried.

She wished she could keep a better eye on the boy, but her job kept her busier than she wanted to be. There was no time for Pepper to visit the penthouse again, especially with how much travelling she had to do as well. And besides, Peter is in Tony’s care. That man would never let any harm come to him, no matter the problem.

Pepper was jerked from her thoughts when her phone began to ring loudly. She sat up in her desk chair, scrambling to answer. When she finally managed to pick up the call, Pepper pressed the phone to her ear with a stately, “This is Potts.”

“Pep, we gotta talk,” Happy’s voice answered, sounding highly concerned.

“Happy? What’s the matter?” Pepper asked, face pulling into a frown. “Happy?” she asked again when at first he didn’t reply.

“It has to do with Peter,” the man replied. “There’s something wrong.”

So her hunch was right. Peter wasn’t okay. “Oh my gosh, is he alright? Did he get hurt?” she said, getting to her feet and preparing to bolt out of her office. “Please tell me Tony’s with him. Are they in the medbay? Or the hospital? I can drive over there—”

“Pepper, no,” Happy interrupted. “It’s not like that. Peter’s in trouble, but Tony is the problem.”

“What? I don’t understand, you’re not making any sense, I—”

“Pepper, I need you to listen. Tony is keeping Peter hostage in the penthouse, and he wants me to kill May. You need to call the Avengers.”

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, theres that. Like I said, its not the best. Sorry if this story doesn't live up to expectations btw, I'm not the best writer. But I definitely will be finishing this story, no matter how long it takes.
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU ALL WHO COMMENTED OVER THE LAST FEW MONTHS, IVE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM EVEN THOUGH I HAVENT ANSWERED TO MOST. I APPRECIATE THEM ALL AND YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. FEEL FREE TO KEEP COMMENTING AND ILL DO MY BEST TO ANSWER, YOU CAN ATTACK ME ABOUT THIS CHAPTER AND/OR WHY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE, IDC BUT ILL ALWAYS READ YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS.
> 
> Alright, thanks y'all for reading and sticking with me, you guys are the best ❤
> 
> *Edit 2/7/21
> 
> Y'ALL I FORGOT THAT I WANTED TO SHARE THIS POEM SOMEONE COMMENTED ON A DIFFERENT CHAPTER. I LIKE IT A LOT.
> 
> Dark stark broke peters heart  
> Peters blood in the water and  
> Tony’s a shark  
> An iv of drugs  
> To help a boy dream  
> Damn tones that was real mean.
> 
> A poem by Dodada
> 
> THANK YOU FOR THE POEM


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